The Promise
by Imaginigma
Summary: Legolas is injured during an archery training and all the evidence point at Aragorn. When the King of Mirkwood is convinced that Aragorn is guilty and sentences him for the attempted murder of the Prince, Legolas is hard pressed to save his friend.
1. Accusations

Title: The Promise

Rating: R

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and his heirs, as well as the rightful right holders. I only own the plot of this story, and maybe not even that.

Summary: Legolas is injured during an archery training and all the evidence point at Aragorn. When the King of Mirkwood is convinced that Aragorn is guilty and sentences him for the attempted murder of the Prince, Legolas is hard pressed to save his friend.

A/N: Aragorn is 24 in this story. Written for the Teitho Contest "Lest we forget".

Warning: I like King Thranduil best when he is nice and understanding, caring and a loving father. But, for the sake of the story, he is not. So, consider this story AU in this regard.

* * *

Chapter 1: Accusations

The harsh wind of autumn blew the scent of rotting flesh and dead bodies to Legolas's nose. The sweet scent of blood and decay made him sick, and only the fact that his stomach was empty prevented him from feeling the urge to throw up. He was a hardened warrior, had been tried and tested more times in his life than most elves, but the gruesome sight of the battlefield in front of him made even his strong composure waver.

Orcs.

He let his eyes travel over the dead beasts; bodies were broken, bones bared, blood everywhere. The ground was soiled with the foul minions essence and Legolas wondered whether flowers would ever flower in this place again, or if the smell of death would forever defile this part of the forest of Mirkwood. Had they not enough to do with the deadly spiders that inhabited his home? Did they have to battle the increasing numbers of orcs as well that seemed to spread from East and South?

It would do him no good to dwell on these thoughts now, for Legolas knew there were things to rejoice for as well. This latest battle, as fierce and lethal it had been, had claimed no elven lives, and the injuries that the warriors had received would heal in time. And Legolas was grateful for one more thing. Turning his head to the side, he smiled softly. Aye, he thought as he watched two elves help Aragorn onto a stretcher, much to the young rangers protest.

Aragorn may have sustained a wound to his thigh and lost more blood than Legolas felt comfortable with, but he was alive. Once they were back in the palace, he would make sure his friend rested so that he could heal. Legolas stepped up beside the stretcher, giving Aragorn a reassuring smile when the group of warriors turned and left the horrible sight of dead orcs behind. He felt relieved. For a terrible moment, when he had seen his friend go down during the fight, he had feared that he would have to fulfil the promise he had given his friend a long time ago. A promise he knew could well be one he would have to fight to fulfil and that had the potency to be the first he would break.

The promise that he would not fade should Aragorn die one day and leave the circles of the world.

...

Due to his injury and slow recovery, winter reached the lands before Aragorn was hale enough to leave for Imladris. He had wished to return to his homeland in the North, but Legolas's assurances that he was welcomed to stay in Mirkwood for the winter season alleviated his worries.

Although Aragorn and Legolas had been friends for years, most elves of Mirkwood still looked somewhat hesitant on their friendship. Many of them still remembered the defeat of their armies in the Last Alliance, and the fact that King Thranduil showed and voiced his dislike of the race of men quite openly had furthered their prejudices. Never would they harm a friend of their beloved Prince, but that did not mean that they had to be friendly to the strange youngster.

Having lived most of his young life with the elves of Imladris, Aragorn felt the coldness in their voices although they spoke politely. He saw the frowns on the ageless faces and heard the whispered words of dislike whenever the elves thought he would not hear. Often did he wonder if Legolas had noticed it, too, but he never asked. And truly, what should he have said that would not have damaged Legolas's faith and pride in his people?

Due to his slow recovery and the slight limp that still graced his steps, Aragorn felt the elves superiority keenly. When he was alone and without Legolas by his side, the elves openly stared at his limp, making him feel as if he was an especially juicy bug under one of his father's examination glasses. Once or twice, while he walked in the palace gardens to train the damaged muscles in his thigh, he even thought that someone watched him, spied on him, but he saw and heard no one.

So, Aragorn spent his days in the company of his best friend, ignoring the jibes and jokes, frowns and glares. His discomfort was lessened somewhat when two of Legolas's childhood friends, Voronwe and Thawcar, made the effort to get to know him better. He knew that they would never become best friends, but it was a start and Aragorn felt almost comfortable in their presence. Almost.

It was a sunny winter morning when Legolas and Aragorn made their way down to the archery field. Legolas, wearing a cloak that was embroidered with soft squirrel fur, carried his wonderfully crafted long bow over his shoulder, while Aragorn, wrapped in a thick winter cloak that was more practical than beautiful, carried his old hunting bow. It had been a gift from his brothers when he turned twenty, and so far he had felt no desire to replace it with a new one. A bird flew overhead, a dark shadow against the bright blue sky, and its song was heard wide and far.

"Make sure that you do not shoot the birds in the sky, my friend." Legolas teased his friend while he turned his face into the sun to enjoy the warm rays on his skin.

Grinning, Aragorn eyed Legolas's cloak. "I think it would be better for you to stand behind me while I shoot, or I could mistake you for game."

"Oh, make no mistake. I will _definitely_ stand behind you; you have been trained by your brothers, after all." The mock sincere tone of Legolas was not lost on Aragorn, and so he put on his best imitation of being hurt. Putting a gloved hand above his heart, he sighed deeply. "That hurt, my friend. As far as I know, the twins' luck with arrow and bow is legendary."

A very unelvish snort came from Legolas. "Aye, if one calls shooting everything that moves luck, well then…"

"Oh, come now, Legolas." Aragorn laughed. "You are not still angry because Elladan nearly shot you? It was an accident. He said he thought you were the ill swan we were looking for to put him out of his misery."

Swirling around and almost unbalancing Aragorn with the swift movement, Legolas leaned in close and pointed a finger at the ranger. "Do I look like a swan? _That_, was no accident. They did it on purpose."

Lifting his hands in defeat and suppressing the laughter that bubbled up inside him, Aragorn conceded, "Maybe, maybe not. Who knows, my friend? Fact is they missed you and no harm was done."

Had Aragorn been able to take his words back, he would have done. Legolas's eyes narrowed to a deadly glare. "They only missed because I threw myself onto the ground, Estel."

"Ohm, aye, but it was not there fault, that there were horse dr.."

"Don't you dare say it, Estel. They knew it!" Legolas hissed, and Aragorn had to lean backwards to be able to keep his eyes focused due to Legolas's closeness.

"Legolas, don't be ridiculous. The twins could not have know that there were horse dr…"

"I warn you!"

"..droppings on the ground." For a long moment Legolas and Aragorn glared at each other, both faces a mask of control. Then, slowly, a grin tugged at Aragorn's lips that he could no longer suppress, and when he saw the mirth that sparkled in Legolas's eyes, he could no longer control himself. He burst out in a bark of laughter, having to hold his sides to not topple over in the knee deep snow.

Legolas joined him soon, and his musical laugher filled the air. For many minutes they enjoyed their merriment, finding happiness in their friendship. It was Legolas who calmed first, as he usually did. Clapping his friend on the shoulder, he straightened his tunic and cloak and resumed his walk to the archery training field.

There war a comfortable silence between the friends on their way to the field, and even when they strung their bows, checked their arrows and readied to take the first shots. It was when Legolas, having cast away his cloak, aimed at the target, that the silence was broken.

"And I still say they did it on purpose." Legolas said, then breathed out deeply and let his yellow fletched arrow fly. It hit the target dead centre.

"Not bad." Eyeing the still trembling shaft of the arrow, Aragorn nocked his own arrow, aimed and released. To his dismay the arrow flew past the target and buried itself into the wooden wall behind it that had been built to catch stray arrows.

"Don't say it, Legolas. That was more than bad." Aragorn said, rolling his right shoulder to warm the muscles. Then, he tried again, but once more his shot went wide.

"Perhaps you should aim at the wall instead of the target. Then your arrows might hit it." Legolas quipped from his position two steps behind the ranger. His eyes sparkled with mirth, letting Aragorn know that he was not serious. Legolas knew very well that the young ranger strived on compliments form his family and friends. Comparing himself to elves all his life had made a fine warrior out of Aragorn, but sometimes his self assurance needed a little push into the right direction.

"Try again, Estel. Let me see how much you have improved since the last time we trained together."

Turning around towards his friend, Aragorn lifted an eyebrow. "Did I shoot that slobbering orc that tried to take a bite out of you, or not?"

"You did, but a battle is something completely different from this here. In a fight you react instinctively, on adrenalin. Your brain and your hands work without a true connection. It is more an eye hand connection. You do what you deem right without much thinking."

Aragorn frowned. "And how shall that make my aim better? You think I fight better when I do not think?"

Laughing musically, Legolas shook his head. "That was not what I meant my friend, but principally, yes. Sometimes I have the feeling that you brood to much, Estel. That makes your hand hesitate and your eyes to move too much. Try again, I will tell you what I mean."

Still not truly convinced, Aragorn readied his stand, nocked and arrow, aimed and released. This time the shot hit the target, but only barely.

"Aye, it is as I thought." Legolas stepped up to Aragorn and gestured at the target. "Before that shot, what did you think about?"

"What a stupid idea this is." Aragorn said, grinning a lopsided grin.

"Tsk, ranger." Giving Aragorn a light shove with his shoulder, Legolas nodded at the target. "Let us try something different. Nock an arrow and aim, please."

Aragorn sighed but complied. He nocked his third arrow and aimed, but before he could shoot, Legolas commanded, "Now close your eyes."

"What?"

"Close your eyes Estel. Trust me."

Doing as he was told, Aragorn closed his eyes. It was as if someone had suddenly heightened his senses. He could feel the light wind on his face and the sunny rays warm his skin. The snow he stood in was cold and his feet grew slowly numb, but most of all he felt Legolas's calming presence beside him.

"Breathe in deeply, Estel, then breathe out and shoot." Legolas said softly, his voice blending in perfectly with their surroundings.

Cold air filled his throat and burned his lungs, but it was a welcomed feeling that cleared Aragorn's head and seemed to fill him with new life. He breathed out deeply and released the arrow as Legolas had told him. The smile in Legolas's voice was unmistakable, "Now open you eyes, my friend."

The arrow had hit dead centre.

"Wow. Legolas, thank you."

And at Aragorn's wondrous voice, Legolas could not help but laugh happily.

Unnoticed by both, a slim shadow moved in the woods behind the training field. It hushed from tree to tree, high in the branches of the evergreen trees, so as not to be seen. A wave of hatred and distrust emanated from the being, and when Legolas's soft laughter reached his ears, the figure grimaced in disgust. How could a mere adan make the Prince act as if he were an elfling? Legolas was a warrior, a leader and one of his best friends. This adan had reduced the Prince to a giggling youth again. It was something the figure could not accept. His prince was a hero to him, a symbol of strength and dignity.

When the ranger suddenly cursed and after a moment turned and made his way back to the palace, the figure began to smile dangerously. This was the perfect opportunity to get rid of his object of hatred. Once this was over, Legolas would once more be the proud and strong Prince of this realm.

With agile movements the elf who hid in the trees jumped to the ground and crept back to the edge of the woods, knocked an arrow, aimed very, very carefully and released the projectile. The answering yell of pain was bliss to his ears.

...

Aragorn cursed his bad luck. Why did his bowstring have to snap right now? The trip to his room in the palace and back to the training grounds had taken longer than he had wished. The knee deep snow and his slight limp did not help his mood any. He was so concentrated on not tripping while hastening towards the training field, that he did not notice the numbers of elves staring at him strangely. It was only when loud, agitated voices reached his ears that he looked up and took in the change in his surroundings.

Where the gardens and training areas had been practically deserted only minutes prior, dozens of elves, most of them clad in the livery of the Palace guards, crowded the area. They carried bows and swords, gestured here and there and talked in hushed whispers or shouted orders. They looked as if they were searching for someone or something, and Aragorn could tell that they were on high alert.

Confused, Aragorn saw that most of the elves were heading in the direction of the training fields. What was going on? An elf with white robes and a leather bag under his arm hastened by, and in that moment Aragorn felt his stomach clench painfully. A healer. A healer was headed in the direction of the training field. Legolas!

Forgetting his injured thigh, Aragorn began to run through the snow as fast as he could. But he had made only a few steps before he was spotted by a tall guard. Upon seeing him, the guard pointed at him and yelled sharply, "Daro!" stop. The next moment his call was taken up by numerous other elves and before Aragorn knew what was happening, he was surrounded by at least ten guards. Some of them had their swords drawn and pointed at him, while others glared at him darkly, ready to act any moment.

Aragorn stopped in his tracks and looked at the elves. Due to their ability to stand atop of the snow, they loomed over him threateningly. "What has happened? Why did you…"

"No dhinén!" be silent A guard spat, before he ordered two of his comrades to bind Aragorn's hands and take him away.

Too baffled to protest, Aragorn did not resist when the elves bound his hands behind his back none too gently. Only when they began to lead him away from the training field and into the direction of the palace did he find his voice. "What? Why? What is the meaning of this?"

The guard who had spoken before stepped up to him and leaned towards his face. His eyes sparkled with hatred when he spoke, "You are arrested on order of the King and you shall get your rightful sentence, Adan."

"What am I accused of? Where is Legolas?"

If the eyes of the guard could have reflected the fires of Mordor, they did now. He hissed dangerously, "Should you not know where the Prince is, Adan? After all, you are accused of attempted murder of a member of the royal family. If I were you, I would start praying that Prince Legolas lives."

"What? No, I did not…" Aragorn's excuse was cut short when one of the guard that held his arms backhanded him sharply.

Aragorn's head was ringing and he did not fight the four guards that dragged him towards the palace. More and more elves exited the building, eyeing him with open distrust and hatred. They whispered and pointed at him. It was when another healer hastened by, headed towards the healing wing, that Aragorn realized that all of this was no joke.

Something had happened to Legolas while he had been away. He had been attacked. Someone, someone had tried to kill Legolas. Thousands of thoughts raced through Aragorn's head. Who? Why? How? Was Legolas still alive? What had happened?

The guards led him down the stony corridors of the palace, silent and threatening. The elves that stared at him became fewer, the noise of the guards that guarded the palace grew fainter, and when one of the elves guarding Aragorn opened a strong wooden door that closed loudly behind them, the sounds of the palace vanished.

Stepping through the door, Aragorn was lead down a stone staircase. It was dark in the corridor, the air was cold and wet. Torches sputtered in their holders on the walls, and the further down they went, the colder it became. A shudder crept across Aragorn's spine and the hairs on his neck stood on end. He knew where the guards would bring him. Not to one of the arresting rooms of the royal family, where misbehaving petitioners or drunken guests were brought. No, they were escorting him to the dungeons.

The guards shoved him through one of the many cell doors that lined the walls, making him stumble and fall heavily against the wall in the back of the cell. Aragorn turned around to see the guards close the door and lock it. The small peep hole in the door was opened and a guard called disgustedly, "Don't get too comfortable, Adan. If I know the King your stay will be short lived." The guard closed the small rectangle peep hole, and silence and darkness filled the cell.

For a few moments Aragorn could not move at all. His mind was racing, but it all made no sense. Legolas injured? Attacked even? Slowly, Aragorn sank down the cold wall. This could not be happening. It was so unreal. Coming to sit on his behind on the damp stone floor that was only barely strewn with hay, Aragorn drew his legs up towards his chest, placing his head on his knees. How could this have happened?

Tbc...


	2. The senctence

Title: The Promise

Rating: R

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and his heirs, as well as the rightful right holders. I only own the plot of this story, and maybe not even that.

Summary: Legolas is injured during an archery training and all the evidence point at Aragorn. When the King of Mirkwood is convinced that Aragorn is guilty and sentences him for the attempted murder of the Prince, Legolas is hard pressed to save his friend.

A/N: Aragorn is 24 in this story.

Warning: I like King Thranduil best when he is nice and understanding, caring and a loving father. But, for the sake of the story, he is not. So, consider this story AU in this regard.

**Ah well, I fear the title says it all. °g° But I simply couldn't resist starting the chapter with doom already on the doorstep. But, donÄt get me wrong. I am not evil or anything of the like. °shakes head vehemently° Just a bit...mean, or...reader frindly, maybe? I mean, I could not sleep tonight if I knew that I gave you a chapter with a nice, happy sounding title and it actually was rather...unpolite. °Looks at readers' faces° Uhm...I let you read now °hides°**

* * *

Chapter 2: The Sentence

Who would have wanted to hurt Legolas? And what had been done to him? How bad was he injured? Aragorn knew that Legolas was most likely unconscious, or he would not have allowed that the guards accused him. And that meant that Legolas was badly injured. Had one of the guards not told him that he should pray Legolas survived? Was he injured that badly? Was it life threatening? If it was, then he could help! He was a healer, after all!

Despair and helplessness gnawed at Aragorn, but he knew there was nothing he could do. The guards had made clear that he was not to leave the cell, and he knew they would tell him nothing about Legolas. A cold shiver raced down Aragorn's spine. And in the darkness of his cell, far under the palace, Aragorn hoped and prayed that his friend would survive. Not once did he think about his own fate.

Hours passed by uncounted. Outside of the dungeons the sun sank behind the treetops and the world grew silent and dark. Fires were lit to illuminate the pathways and gardens, while the high walls that surrounded the palace were buzzing with guards. The same guards that stood in front of the double doors that led to the Healing Wing of the palace.

The healers had worked throughout the morning and the afternoon to save the Prince's life. They had extricated the grey fletched arrow that had drilled itself into Legolas chest, had stopped the blood flow, cleaned and disinfected the deep wound, and had bandaged the serious injury with utmost care. And during all their ministrations, Legolas had not once stirred. His condition was grave and the healers could not say yet whether he would live through the night.

King Thranduil was beyond himself with worry. But when the healers told him that Legolas could still die even after all they had done for him, his worry turned into rage. The words of Thawcar, who had found Legolas, repeated themselves in his head; grey fletching, short arrow shaft, deep imprints in the snow leading away from the training field. He had never trusted this human who had wriggled his way into his son's life, and now this same human was probably responsible for Legolas's death. White with fury, the King left his son's room and made his way towards the dungeons.

...

Aragorn did not know when his shoulders had become numb, or when he had lost the feeling in his hands. He did not even notice the painful throbbing of his injured leg. All that the felt during the time that he sat in the dark cell was the pain in his heart at the thought that Legolas might die. That he may die and he had not been there to protect him, to help him. Even now he was not at his side to help him through the pain and fear that accompanied each injury.

When the key was turned in the lock and the door to his cell opened, Aragorn lifted his head from his knees. Hope flared in his heart; finally he would get news on Legolas! But when he saw who entered his cell, his stomach churned painfully. Rarely had Aragorn seen the King of Mirkwood so angry. He swallowed nervously and tried to get to his feet, but after sitting on the cold floor for hours, and with his hands bound behind his back, he failed miserably.

He did not get a second chance. With two great steps the King was at his side, and without preamble Thranduil grabbed him by the collar of his tunic and yanked him to his feet. Slamming Aragorn up against the wall so that his feet were lifted off the ground, the King spat angrily, "I should have known that you mean trouble, human. But that you would go so far as to try to murder my son!"

Thranduil's arms shook with rage, causing Aragorn to be slammed against the wall repeatedly. Still, Aragorn managed to shake his head and hold eye contact. "King Thranduil, I did not try to kill Legolas. I do not even know what has happened!"

"Is that so?" The King narrowed his eyes and glared at Aragorn, still holding him up against the wall. "Then how do you explain that it was _your_ arrow that we found embedded in his chest? _Your_ footprints that led away from the training field? _Your_ quiver that lay in the snow?"

Shock tore through Aragorn, combined with confusion. His arrow? How could it have been his arrow? He had not shot Legolas, by the Valar he had not even been there when Legolas had been injured? Aragorn shook his head vehemently, "No, no. That is wrong. I did not shoot him. I would never do that. He is my friend!"

The hands that held Aragorn up against the wall tightened their hold. "Then tell me, Adan, where have you been when my son was injured?"

"I was back in my room. My bowstring snapped and I went to get a new one." Aragorn said, wanting the King to believe him.

"So you went far enough away from my son, so that he would not suspect your treachery." Thranduil hissed.

"No, no!" Aragorn could not believe what was happening. The King was turning his own words against him.

"We will see." Thranduil released his hold on Aragorn, making him slide down the wall and tumble to the ground. "You will stay in this cell until I have decided what to do with you."

Turning around, Thranduil strode to the door of the small cell, hands balled into fists at his side. Without turning around, he added, "Should my son die, you will be convicted of the murder of a member of the royal family. That is high treason, human." Then, the King left the cell and the door banged shut loudly.

Silence settled over the dark room, and Aragorn felt his heart beat painfully. High treason…murder. That could not be. Legolas was his friend. Never, ever would he even thinking about harming Legolas!

And, Aragorn had no illusion about the sentence for high treason. It was death.

Days went by, but still Legolas would not wake. His condition improved steadily, but the wound he had received was a serious one, and not even the most skilled healers in Thranduil's halls could tell if Legolas would make it.

With every day that passed, the King became angrier and desperate. He loved his son dearly and worry and fear gnawed at his heart. All these days he sat at Legolas's bed, holding his son's hand, and praying that he would wake up soon. That all would be as it used to be. In his mind he had no doubt that it had been Aragorn who had shot Legolas, for all the sings and evidence pointed in that direction. And, who else should have had a reason to hurt Legolas?

Thranduil did not visit Aragorn a second time in all these days, for he feared what he could do in his anger. No, he would not act before Legolas had woken; then, he would take care of the ranger who had wriggled his way into his son's life.

On the sixth day after the attempted murder, Thranduil sat by Legolas's bed, deep in thought. Absentmindedly stroking Legolas's palm with his thumb, he gazed out of the window and wondered not for the first time, why he had not assigned some guards to safeguard his son. Suddenly, the hand under his fingers twitched.

"Legolas? Legolas, ion nin, can you hear me?" Thranduil scooted closer to the bed, staring intently at Legolas's face.

At first, nothing happened, but then Legolas pale face turned in his direction. The eyelids began to flutter and a moment later the dark lashed lifted to reveal blurry eyes. "Ada?" The whispered words send a shiver of joy through Thranduil's heart and he bent down to embrace his son as tightly as he dared.

"Oh, my little Legolas."

Legolas fell asleep again after only a few minutes of confused wakefulness, but Thranduil felt as if the weight of the whole Mirkwood Mountains had been lifted from his heart. His son would live. He had been awake, if only shortly, but he had recognized him, even spoken with him. He would recover, but it would be a slow and painful recovery.

And even as the whole palace breathed a sigh in relief at the joyous news that the well loved Prince of Mirkwood had woken, no one bothered to tell Aragorn, and therewith release him from his own fears that his best friend would die.

When Legolas woke for the second time, many hours later, the healers buzzed around him, checking him over and over and over, until the King was convinced that Legolas was as well cared for as possible. He sat down at Legolas's bedside and took Legolas's hand in his own.

"How do you feel, Legolas?"

Still very tired, Legolas said softly, "I will be well soon, Ada. Please, don't worry about me."

The healers had told him that he had been shot, but so far Legolas had not had the energy to truly think about what had happened to him. It was Thranduil's next question that forced him to remember.

"Legolas, what happened? Can you tell me?"

Frowning slightly, Legolas shook his head. "It happened so fast, Ada. I could not react."

"I know, ion nin, I know. Can you tell me who it was, Legolas? Did you see him?" The King leaned forwards in his chair, intent on every word his son uttered. Despite his anger and the fact that he was convinced that it had indeed been Aragorn, he wanted to hear what Legolas had to say; he wanted to hear his son's uninfluenced declaration.

But Legolas shook his head once more. "I did not see who it was. I heard the arrow and then saw a dark shadow, but that is all I saw, Ada. He-he was tall, dark haired, long cloak."

Thranduil's anger grew. Was that ranger not tall? And dark haired? And had he not worn a long cloak that day? With the arrow and the footprints that they had found at the scene, all signs pointed at the human.

"Legolas, the human…" Thranduil needed to be sure before he took action.

And he got it when suddenly a spark of fear appeared in Legolas's eyes. "Strider, where is he?" Only now did Legolas notice that his friend had not visited him yet, and he feared that he had been hurt, too.

"Shh, my son. Do not worry, I took care of him." Thranduil soothed, thinking that Legolas was afraid Aragorn could try to hurt him once more.

"Oh, good. That is good. Thank you, Ada." And with a small smile on his lips, Legolas fell back asleep.

Thranduil watched his beloved son sleep for a while, before he gently placed Legolas's hand on the blanket and got to his feet. His face a mask of control, the King of Mirkwood left the healing room, assigning two guards to guard his son and mentioned five to follow him to the dungeons. It was time to deal with the man who had tried to murder his son.

...

Aragorn had never felt so helpless and miserable in his whole life. Not once had the guards cut the bonds or granted him the comfort of a warm fire or blanket. It was bitter cold in his cell, and the stone walls and floor seemed to breathe ice. The coldness combined with his fear for Legolas and the fact that he had eaten practically nothing in all these days, made him tremble uncontrollably.

His arms, hands and legs were numb, and Aragorn had long given up trying to walk around for warmth; the cell was too small to take more then three steps anyway. He was sitting on the cold, straw covered floor, head on his knees and shivering terribly, when he heard the key in the lock. A moment later the door opened and the King entered, accompanied by two guards.

Looking up, Aragorn felt his heart constrict painfully. Thranduil looked furious, and he towered over Aragorn like a snake over a mouse. Never before had Aragorn felt so intimidated and so afraid, not even when he had been fighting orcs or wargs. Something had happened, something had gone terribly wrong and now the King was here to deal out justice.

That…that could only mean one thing. Legolas. Something had happened to Legolas. Had he died? Was he dead and Aragorn had not even been there? Had not had the chance to say farewell? If it was so and Legolas was dead, then Aragorn knew he would not survive, either. And in his heart, he was not sure if he wanted to. If his best friend was dead, then life would never the same as before.

Without saying a thing, the guards stepped forwards, grabbed Aragorn by the shoulders and yanked him to his feet. King Thranduil turned around and exited the cell, while the guards followed with their prisoner. Aragorn was too weak to protest, and too afraid of the answer to ask the questions that raced through his mind.

The small group made their way down the hallway, meeting with other guards, before they descended another flight of stairs that led them even deeper into the earth. The walls were made of rough stone, as if the builders of this part of the palace had not deemed it necessary to work precisely or with care. There were cracks in the walls and holes in the floor; water dripped down the walls, collecting in small puddles, and the further down they went the colder it became. Soon, Aragorn could see his breath mist in front of his face.

Right, left, left again, down another staircase and then they stopped at a door to their right. The door was made of grey wood and lichens grew upon its surface. Dust and grime covered the hallways in this part of the dungeons, as if they had not been used for a very long time. One of the guards took out an old looking, rusty key; the lock creaked loudly, but the door opened silently on its hinges.

The guards holding Aragorn by the shoulders shoved him forwards, over the threshold, and when Aragorn's eyes fell on the room, his heart stopped beating for a moment. This was no cell. It was an execution chamber.

Tbc...


	3. Setting things right

Title: The Promise

Rating: R

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and his heirs, as well as the rightful right holders. I only own the plot of this story, and maybe not even that.

Summary: Legolas is injured during an archery training and all the evidence point at Aragorn. When the King of Mirkwood is convinced that Aragorn is guilty and sentences him for the attempted murder of the Prince, Legolas is hard pressed to save his friend.

A/N: Aragorn is 24 in this story.

Warning: I like King Thranduil best when he is nice and understanding, caring and a loving father. But, for the sake of the story, he is not. So, consider this story AU in this regard.

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Chapter 3: Setting things right

Legolas blinked sleepily against the light that filtered through the half closed curtains. When had the sunlight become so bright? Yawning, he sat up gingerly. His chest hurt, but the pain was not as intense as he had feared; it seemed the healers had given him some pain numbing herbs.

When Legolas saw that the room was empty, he frowned. He had anticipated that his father would be with him when he woke. Given, as King of Mirkwood his father had many duties, but after _this_ attack, Legolas had thought his father would stay with him for a while longer.

Suddenly, the door to his room opened. A healer entered, carrying a tray with various herbs and bowls; which he nearly dropped when he saw that Legolas sat upright in the bed.

"But, my Prince! You should not be up!" He quickly sat the tray down on a table and hurried over to Legolas, forcing him to lie down.

"Where is my father?"

The healer smoothed the blankets, and shook his head. "You Highness should not concern yourself with this at the moment. You need rest."

Frowning, Legolas tried again, "Where is he, then? Has anything happened to him?"

"Oh no. The King is dealing with the one who tried to murder you. He will pass judgement on him today." With that said the healer turned around and made his way over to his tray.

Legolas felt relief flood through his veins. So they had found the one who had tried to kill him, had even captured him.

"That is a relief to hear." Legolas said. "Who is it?"

The healer turned around, his face looking disgusted. "He will not trouble you again, my Prince. That human will get what he deserves, I am sure of it."

Human? Legolas blinked confused. A human had shot him? How could it have been possible for a human to enter the palace grounds unnoticed? Why had the guards not seen him? The thoughts were still racing through Legolas's head when the healer spoke once more.

"You should not concern yourself with that ranger, my Prince. The King will deal with him according to our laws."

Shock tore through Legolas. Ranger? That could not be. That was impossible!

"Estel? They are accusing _him_ of shooting me?"

"Why, yes, of course." The healer said confused; he could not understand what had upset Legolas so.

"But, no! That is wrong." Legolas pushed the bedcovers away and swung his legs out of the bed. A sharp pain shot through his chest and the room swam in front of his eyes for a moment, but he got to his feet nonetheless.

"My Prince!" Immediately the healer was at his side and grabbed his arm to steady him. "You must not get up yet; you are too weak."

"No, no, you do not understand. It was not Estel!" Legolas practically yelled, trying to dislodge the healer's hands from his arm.

"But, the evidence…"

"I don't care. It was not him! Estel would never do that, he is my friend!"

Legolas made his way over to the door, forcing the healer to either follow him or forcefully drag him back to the bed. His fear and worry gave Legolas the energy he needed to reach the door and throw it open, thereby startling the two guards that stood in front of it.

"My Prince, what…" One of the guards began, but Legolas interrupted him.

"Where is the King? Where is he?"

"Down in the dungeons, my Lord. He deals with the accused."

Fear shot through Legolas; he knew the sentence for the attempted murder of a member of the Royal Family was death. He knew that he was too weak to reach the dungeons in time, so he ordered the two guards. "Go down to the dungeons immediately and stop the King!"

"But, my Prince, the King ordered us to guard you and to not let you out of our sight, no matter what."

Legolas groaned in frustration. "Please, he is making a mistake. You have to go there, on my responsibility."

"I am sorry, my Prince, but the word of the King is law and we are bound by it."

"No, no." Legolas pushed past the guards, the healer at his side. If he could not convince the guards to leave him alone to stop his father, then he would have to go himself.

The guards exchanged confused looks, but after a moment they followed Legolas down the hallway.



It had not taken long for Aragorn to realize that he could not convince the King that he was innocent. As soon as the guards had shoved him over the threshold and he had seen the wooden gallows that stood in the middle of the huge room, Aragorn had tried to talk sense into the King. It had not worked.

The feeling when the executioner had lifted the noose over his head had been one of resignation and defeat. And now, standing on the wooden platform of the gallows, looking down at the King of Mirkwood, Aragorn knew that he would not be able to find a way out of this. There was only one thing he needed to know, needed to make sure.

"Does Legolas live?"

The King took a deep breath. "You did not succeed in your attempt, human. The Prince lives and he will heal completely."

Aragorn closed his eyes in relief. His friend was alive. He would heal. But, there was another thing that still bothered Aragorn. "King Thranduil, even if you do not believe me, I am innocent. The true killer is still out there. Legolas needs to be guarded. He needs to be protected."

"With you gone, he will be as safe here as he was before you entered our lives." The King nodded in the direction of the guards who still held Aragorn's shoulders to keep him from running away. They released him, and stepped back, but still near enough to react should Aragorn try to escape.

These chamber had been built during a time, when it had been too dangerous to hold open executions. But, it had been out of use for centuries now, for there had been no need for it in Mirkwood.

The executioner stepped towards the handle that would open the door on which Aragorn stood. Gripping the handle, the elf gazed at the King, waiting for the command.

Thranduil, convinced that Aragorn was guilty, lifted his voice, "You are accused of attempted murder of the Prince of Mirkwood. Your excuses have been heard and dismissed. The sentence for this crime is death. Do you have any last words?"

Aragorn felt his breathing hitch. He wished that he could say something to change the King's opinion, but he knew that it was over. He had tried to reason with him. Breathing deeply, Aragorn nodded.

"Aye, I would ask you to tell Legolas that he must not forget the promise he gave me."

"That is all?" Thranduil asked, clasping his hands behind his back.

His throat felt too tight to speak, and so Aragorn simply nodded. He was certain that Legolas knew which promise he meant. There was nothing more to say.

Nodding, the King made eye contact with the executioner, and when Thranduil nodded his head once, the elf pulled the handle and the trapdoor under Aragorn's feet opened.



Panting, Legolas wiped the sweat from his brow. For a while he had tried to talk the guards into leaving him and running ahead, but they refused. By now, he had not enough breath to talk. His chest hurt with every step he took, and his head pounded rhythmically. Still, he went on, determination shining in his eyes. The healer at his side had by now given up his attempts to stop him.

With one hand pressed against the stone wall to keep him steady and the other holding his aching chest, Legolas rounded the last corner. There it was, the door leading to the dungeons' executive chamber.

Trembling from fatigue and whiter than the snow outside, Legolas opened the door. In horror he watched how the trap door opened and Aragorn fell. The rope around his neck pulled tight, and Aragorn stopped moving.

"No!" Legolas yelled, stumbling into the room.

"Legolas!" The King whirled around, eyes wide in surprise when he saw his son enter the room. With two quick steps he was at Legolas's side, catching him when Legolas legs gave out beneath him.

"Ada, no! Estel is innocent! Ada!" Legolas could not believe that his friend was dead. That could not be true.

"But, Legolas…" The King began, but then paled visibly. He ordered sharply, "Cut him down, now!"

The guards standing on the gallows reacted instantly, pulling out knives and cutting the rope on which Aragorn hung. With a dull thud the ranger fell to the floor, where he lay unmoving.

"No, please, Estel." Legolas whispered, clutching his father's arm.

The guards had by now reached Aragorn and lifted the noose from his neck. A moment later, one of the guards checked for a pulse, obviously unsure if the neck had snapped. His surprised voice echoed from the walls, "He lives!"



Thranduil wiped a hand across his weary face; he could not believe what he had almost done. Had he been so blinded by his distrust of humans that he had misinterpreted the evidence? Had the ranger not told him that he was innocent? Why had he not believed him? Had Legolas not come, he would have executed an innocent. And the real killer would have gotten a second chance to try and kill his son.

Thranduil sighed deeply. They had brought the ranger and Legolas back to the healing wing, where the healers had taken care of the both. The trip down to the dungeons had exhausted Legolas, and he had fallen asleep as soon as the healers had declared that the ranger would live. That had been hours ago.

Of course, Thranduil was glad that the ranger would make it, but right now he was more concerned wit his son's well being. If the ranger was innocent, then who had tried to kill his son? The only possible answer was that it had been an elf, for no other human had entered the realm. Why would an elf want to kill Legolas? Legolas was well loved by the elves of this realm, there had never been any serious trouble.

For as long as it was needed the Prince would be guarded. Even now his most loyal guards were stationed in the healing wing with the order to let no one near the Legolas beside the healers and friends.

And seeing that Legolas had insisted on sharing a room with the Adan, the ranger would be guarded as well.

Thranduil sighed once more. He would have to talk to the guards once more, take a look at the evidence, speak with the witnesses. But before he would do that, he would check on Legolas. Getting to his feet, Thranduil left the cosy armchair and walked over to the adjoining room, where his son and the ranger –who was still unconscious- rested.

Upon reaching Legolas's bedside, he saw that his son was awake. Smiling, he bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead. "I am sorry, ion nin. But I thought I was doing the right thing."

"Could you not have waited a bit longer before hanging him? Have you not thought about my own wishes for the accused?" Legolas said softly, grabbing his father's hand. He knew that his father had acted in the believe to do the right thing; but that did not mean that he would let it go just like that.

The King sat down on the side of the bed. "Legolas, you know how I see this. Justice delayed is justice-"

"-is justice denied, I know." Legolas finished the sentence. Aye, he knew. It was one of his father's most loved phrases.

Thranduil saw Legolas's resigned expression, and decided to change the subject for the time being.

"Legolas, do you have an idea who could have done this?"

Legolas shook his head. "No, Ada. After Estel left to get a new bowstring, I checked the fletching on my own arrows. After I was hit, I saw a tall, dark shadow in the woods at the end of the training ground. Whoever it was, he must have hid in the trees, and taken one of Estel's arrows out of the wooden wall. He tried to blame Estel, Ada."

Legolas fell silent for a moment, then frowned deeply. "Ada, it was an elf, we know that. But every elf on the palace grounds is an excellent shooter. He could have killed me easily, but he did not. Ada, what if he simply tired to get rid of Estel that way?"

"Legolas, I do not think…"

"No Ada, think about it." Legolas insisted. The King thought about it for a moment, admitting that he idea had some merit, but he could not believe that one of the elves would hurt his son for no other reason than getting rid of the ranger.

"Thawcar said he saw no one at the training grounds." Thranduil said, scratching his nose.

"Thawcar?" Legolas asked. He had not known that his friend had found him.

"Aye, it was Thawcar who found you on the field and alarmed the guards."

"What was he doing there, Ada? I thought he was leading a patrol." Legolas tucked a strand of blond hair behind his ear.

Sighing, the King shook his head. "Why don't you ask him yourself? He asked if he may visit you."

"Aye, I will do that." The strange feeling in Legolas stomach intensified, but he could still not place it. Before he had time to evaluate on it though, the King got to his feet.

"I am sorry my son, but I have to talk to the guards and take a look at the evidence. Rest, Legolas."

"Alright, Ada."

Thranduil placed another kiss on Legolas's forehead before he left the room. He reminded the guards to be vigilant, and then made his way towards the guards who had first been at the injured Legolas's side.

The King had not been away for long when the door to Legolas and Aragorn's room opened once more.

"Thawcar. I am glad to see you." Legolas smiled at his friend, who made his way over to his bed. When Thawcar passed by Aragorn's bed, he frowned, but said nothing.

"I am glad you are well, Legolas." Thawcar stood at the end of the bed, and after a short pause he added, "How is the human?"

"Estel will be well." The strange feeling in Legolas's stomach changed into tension. "Thawcar, my father told me that it was you who found me."

"Aye, I happened to be at the right spot at the right time." Had Legolas not known better, he would have thought that Thawcar forcefully avoided looking at Aragorn.

"And I am glad you were, my friend. But tell me, why were you not on patrol duty?"

"I changed my shift. Legolas, do you think it wise to let the ranger stay in your room?"

Legolas's face darkened. "He is my friend, Thawcar. And he is innocent."

"Do you know that, Legolas? He was the only one down at the training grounds that day." Thawcar said, shooting a cold look in Aragorn's direction. "That ranger means trouble."

Legolas frowned, but said nothing. He had thought that Thawcar and Voronwe had tried to befriend Aragorn, and although he had not anticipated for them to become great friends, he had hoped that they would at least tolerate each other.

For some moments none of them spoke, and the silence that settled in the room was filled with tension. Then, Thawcar turned back to Legolas. "I am glad to know that you will be well, Legolas." After a moment, he added with a sigh, "And that your friend will be well, too."

"Estel will be happy to hear that, Thawcar." Legolas smiled.

"Well maybe, when you are both healed, we could train together." Thawcar said grudgingly, but seriously. If Legolas trusted this Adan, then he would try to trust him as well. "And I should have known that is was not him, as bad as he is with a bow."

Legolas's musical laughter lifted the tension in the room, and Thawcar chuckled softly. "Alright Legolas, I must go now. Rest, my friend." Thawcar made his way over to the door, but when he turned the handle Legolas's stopped him.

"Thawcar, how did you know that Estel is so bad with bow and arrow? He shot that slobbering orc, after all."

"Oh, Voronwe told me." Thawcar said, then left the room. Legolas stared at the closed door for a long time, surprise and shock written on his face.



The next day was a busy one; for Legolas and Aragorn, as well as for the whole palace. Legolas told his father about his talk with Thawcar, and the King of Mirkwood personally questioned Voronwe. Very few people were able to withstand the King's piercing stare and authority. Voronwe was not one of them.

After only an hour of questioning he confessed to have shot Legolas, using one of Aragorn's arrows which he had taken out of the wooden wall at the end of the training field. And seeing that he was an elf an no one had looked for it, his soft imprints in the snow had not been found.

Thranduil decided to let Voronwe be guarded in the dungeons until Legolas was well enough to judge him. For, after the incident with Aragorn, Legolas had decided to judge Voronwe himself; and he would never order him to be executed. Never. Exile, maybe. Or the suggestion to sail to Valinor.

Aragorn awoke on the second day after his hanging. His throat was sore and swollen, speaking impossible. Eating and drinking hurt him, too, and his prolonged stay in the cold and wet dungeons of Mirkwood had made him ill. He was feverish and very tired, but when he opened his eyes and saw Legolas in a bed next to his own, he smiled so broadly that no words were needed.

The healers made him drink pain numbing teas and soon after his waking he fell into a healing slumber, that would do his body good. He would heal completely; physically, at least. Legolas knew that it would take a while until his emotional hurts would heal, but he vowed to not leave Aragorn's side until he was well again. And the fact that his father had promised to officially apologize to Aragorn and hold a grand dinner to his honour, made Legolas beam in joy.

He simply knew that things would be better now.

When night fell over the lands, Thranduil entered the healing room that Legolas and Aragorn shared. He sat down at the edge of Legolas's bed, and they talked until the moon stood high in the sky. Looking at the darkness outside and the twinkling stars, the King decided that it was time for him to retire, so that Legolas could get some sleep, too.

Getting to his feet, he smiled down at his son. "All will be well soon, ion nin. I promise."

"I know, Ada." Legolas yawned and snuggled deeper into the covers.

"Legolas, there is one more thing I need to tell you before I leave." The King began, unsure if Legolas ready to hear it.

"What is it?" Now curious, Legolas gazed at his father.

"I asked the ranger…Estel, if he had any last words."

Paling, Legolas nodded. He should have known that this had happened, for it was protocol to ask this. He had simply not thought about it yet.

"He said that he wanted me to tell you, to not forget the promise you gave him." Thranduil said, studying his son's face.

A small smile flittered over Legolas's face and he shook his head. "Stubborn ranger."

"Legolas? What did you promise him?"

Lifting his head and turning huge, blue eyes on his father, Legolas said softly, "I promised him long ago, that should he die before his time, I would not fade from grief, but seek happiness, joy and healing wherever I might find it."

And in that moment, Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, felt an enormous gratefulness well up in his heart. As it seemed, this ranger called hope was more than a mere mortal. He was a true friend. A friend who appreciated Legolas's live above all else.

Never again did the King of Mirkwood forget the promise Aragorn had asked of Legolas, and he could sleep more easily with the knowledge of it.

Still, he hoped that Legolas would never be forced to fulfil that promise.

The End.


End file.
